


only need the sun

by babybirdblues



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Canon Era, Drabble, Gen, Grantaire hurts me, Grantaire should be a warning unto himself, M/M, as do the rest of the Barricade Boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-11
Updated: 2014-08-11
Packaged: 2018-02-12 18:49:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2120832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babybirdblues/pseuds/babybirdblues
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(The way his hands move with every word he says.  The way he flicks his tongue over his lips as he pauses between a breath and a word.  The way he pushes loose pieces of hair - shining, uncontrollable blond hair - out of his face.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	only need the sun

**Author's Note:**

> Aaah. I don't even remember why I wrote this piece. Wait, it was based on the word scintillate. I don't know how good it is but I quite like it, so I've decided to post it.

Le Café Musain is never particularly silent. 

It is the meeting place of Les Amis de l’Abaisse, who really, are never quiet.  It is not in any of their natures to stand by and be calm; not when there is France - the People - to fight for.  They are revolutionary, the future.  They will stand forth against all odds to bring the people into the light of a new dawn, out of the blackness of a dark night.  At least, so Enjolras says.  (Grantaire is paraphrasing a bit; he was rather drunk the first time Enjolras gave _that_ particular speech.  Though the second and third speeches - and the fourth and fifth, etcetera - were just different enough to listen with rapt attention.)

Enjolras in particular is never calm when it comes to their fight.

"The people need to rise up!  Among them is the turning tide, the way to bring forth our future, our change -"

Grantaire’s attention is fixed upon Enjolras - the centre of their restless crowd.  He himself is making just as much noise but they are completely different effects.  Grantaire is chaos and drunken mischief that ails those around him.  Enjolras is passionate order that engulfs their friends and bolsters them.  For every laugh Grantaire projects through the room, he is not truly paying attention to those he is conversing with. 

His sole focus is Enjolras.

(The way his hands move with every word he says.  The way he flicks his tongue over his lips as he pauses between a breath and a word.  The way he pushes loose pieces of hair - shining, uncontrollable blond hair - out of his face.)

It is an addiction, and obsession that he finds himself unwilling to give up.  Giving up wine and opium would be easier.

Truly.

It did not start off as this.  At the beginning Grantaire did not see these boys as anything more than fast friends he could pass the hours away with.  Perhaps Enjolras was beautiful, yes.  Perhaps he was easy to see and imagine in paint.  But, no, truly it began when Grantaire first saw - heard, experienced - Enjolras speak.  He shone.  The room alit with words upon which the future could change.  Yet R’s foolish schoolboy did not understand people.  He calls for the people to surge forth, but they are nothing more than worn cloth, full of holes.  Enjolras words escape as soon as there is a slight tremor to dislodge them.

The fate of this rebellion against human nature has only one end.

But Grantaire has never been able to stop any of his vices.  Why would he stop following the statue of a god that walks among men that is Enjolras?  He cannot see any reason why he would.  In fact, he sees it as the best way to spend his days.  To bask in the light of Apollo as he leads his men to the new day, a pitiful Diogenes among believers.

"Come on, R!" Bahorel slaps a hand against his back.  "It is a celebration, my dear friend.  Joly and Bossuet have endeavoured to share this absinthe with us.  You must be the first to show them how to properly drink it.  I fear that I can never get the sugar to mix properly."

Grantaire laughs; louder still when Enjolras eyes flicker over to their small group in frustration.  “Of course!  For whom to better teach young men how to drink than Dionysus himself!  I fear that one day you will learn all there is to know and I shall have no use to you.”

Bossuet smiles as Joly rushes to assure that Grantaire would always have a use with them.  He is their friend and who better than to share a night with than a good friend?  Well a lovely mistress is the answer, of course.  But aside from that, a friend it is.  (And there is no better friend then Grantaire.  No Grantaire is nothing more than a friend - when he is that.)

The bottle of absinthe is emptied into their cups, Bahorel carrying on in delight at having such a treat.  If Grantaire tries hard enough he can even ignore the looks of frustration and disgust thrown their way. 

He does not notice the looks of fear for him hidden well behind locked eyes as he drinks enough to inebriate four men.  Feuilly has joined them, asking after their cause of celebration.  It is Bossuet who answers, followed closely by Joly.  The cheer they exude is contagious.

(He would be lying if he said his focus changed at all.  It is a good thing, then, that he can be a very good liar depending on the situation.)


End file.
